Double take
by Blood.Drop.Lolita
Summary: Leon is sent off to Slovakia on a missing person’s case. Horrors greater than those of Raccoon city’s viral outbreak and the Las Plagas contaminate await him. But what exactly will he encounter THIS time?
1. Chapter 1

_Izzy: Well… here it is, my first (posted) Resident Evil fic. I'm debating whether or not to post my actual first one… _

**Summary**: Leon is sent off to Slovakia on a missing person's case. Horrors greater than those of Raccoon city's viral outbreak and the Las Plagas contaminate await him. I actually got some of this idea from Hostel. Hostel and Resident Evil 4 just seemed to go together, in my opinion.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Resident Evil 4, any of its characters, or Slovakia, I just own the idea.

**Double take **

.Blood.Drop.Lolita.

**Chapter one**

It had been two years since his return from Spain. He sighed, thankful he was able to end the nightmare that might have found its way to the United States. The Los Plagas infestation. He couldn't help but wonder if the parasites were still skulking around that rural area of Spain. As long as they did not find their way over here, it did not affect him, or at least that was how he felt.

Leon touched his left cheek thoughtfully and grazed his fingers over the small scar that Jack Krauser had left him with. It was a constant reminder of the events that had happened.

He had taken up a job with the CIA, since they paid fairly well and he seemed to be good as an undercover cop, or whatever you would call a CIA employee. He hadn't heard anything from Ashley since in a few months. He was pretty sure he had offended her when she offered him "over-time" again and he declined, just like last time. Leon just couldn't get into Ashley; she was too clingy and wanted to be around him all the time. Leon was a man of space, and he well enjoyed solitude. Besides, he had had his eye on Hunnigan for quite some time, even though he saw her even less than Ashley.

Leon sometimes wondered if he were slipping away from reality. Not in the sense he would detach himself purposefully, but he had little contact with anyone and had built up a shell that he always retreated into. To everyone on the outside of that shell, he seemed cool and confident, focused one hundred percent on his duties, when the truth was even though he was calm, cool, and collected, he really just didn't want anything to do with anyone. He could care less how your mother is doing after her surgery or how you got lucky two times last night, how your kid broke the track record. If it did not concern him directly, he really could care less.

But besides his personality alteration, he was still basically the same Leon Scott Kennedy. He had maintained the same hair cut and physical structure, though he had gained just a little bit of weight because of his inactivity in his new job. It was not like the police force, because he was actually one of the officers who would _do_ their job. That job made him care, this one, however, did not.

"Morning Kennedy." A man in his early thirties nodded at Leon as he came sundering in through the big, automated doors. Leon nodded slightly.

"Morning, Parsons."

"Nice day, eh?" Parsons chuckled.

"Yeah. You're being sarcastic to the wrong person, I like the gloom."

"Every now and then it's alright, but you have to have sunshine. You're just a gloomy person, you know that, Leon?" Parsons grinned. The corners of Leon's lips twitched slightly.

"Eh. Gram, I'm perfectly aware of that. And you know you are an overly-radiant person?"

Gram Parsons and Leon Kennedy; how they started off their day, with a bit of witty banter. Leon learned he had to deal with Gram if he ever wanted to get anything done. Leon had been assigned to work with him on "international affairs". When you are forced to like someone, a friendship is bound to form, or at least a close acquaintanceship.

"You know it. Someone has to be in this Godforsaken place. If it wasn't for me, then this department would have its own little doom cloud hangin' over its roof. Then you'd have some competition, Leon."

"Might do me some good." Leon cracked his neck then put his leather jacket on a coat rack. How he missed being able to carry a gun to work; the weight of it and the surge of safety and power it enabled you. But, in this department, in this building, they were not allowed to have firearms. The wielding of firearms would send you to immediate discharge and it would ruin your credibility everywhere. Once you get fired from a place like the CIA your name was "mud".

"Well, what've we got today?" Leon asked as he made his way over to a large table with various papers scattered on it, along with a few cups of coffee and various other things. There were even some _Cheetos_ crumbs scattered on some important looking documents, not to mention the orange powder made a fine coating in patches over the glossy black surface of the table.

"Eh, the usual. Disruptions over-seas, all that bullshit." Gram snorted and combed through the papers.

It was at that moment that the head of the department came waltzing down the hall; his face was fixed in a permanent scowl and he closely resembled Wesker with his looks and the way he held himself when he walked. Even his voice had a ring of pride, just as Wesker's did.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I see you've already taken to your new area…" He eyed the crumbs and the disorder of the table. Wesker-incarnate turned his eyes to Leon and a smirk played on his lips.

"Honestly, I expected better house keeping skills from the president's referral."

"And I expected better competency from the president's right-hand man." Leon mused at the thought of Wesker-incarnate prancing about in a red robe and carrying a long pike. Actually, it suited him in a morbid way.

"Touché…." The man mumbled.

"Did you come down here just to be a pain in our asses, or do you actually have something important to address?" Gram growled. Wesker-incarnate smirked.

"The latter. Actually, Mr. Kennedy here has been assigned to a very important and very sensitive case. Leon, if you will…?" The man gestured to his office.

"Heh, Finally, something to do." Leon smirked and went into the empty office. Gram glowered. It was always Leon being asked to the important cases, and only because he had retrieved the president's daughter. He would love to get the change to show his skills, but of course, he never got the chance.

"Sit down, Leon. Would you like something to drink?" The man asked and poured himself a Jack Daniels. Firearms were prohibited, yet alcohol was okay to have on the premises. The United States laws made no sense sometimes.

"No, thanks. I would just prefer to hear the details of the case so I can get the hell out of here." Leon said simply. He preferred to keep these things as informal as possible.

"The reason we chose you for this is because it is in your field of experience. It has come to our attention that there is something foul brewing over-seas. No, not Spain again, Leon." The man said to alleviate any worry Kennedy might have.

"No, this time it deals with Slovakia. The last sighting was in Bratislava."

"What was sighted?" Leon said, annoyed that his supervisor was being so vague.

"Ah. I believe you are familiar with a Ms. Ada Wong? She was sent there to gather information on a gathering band of terrorists and ended up getting herself… captured. We sent some of our men over there to retrieve her…"

"…and?"

"We received their uniforms in the mail yesterday, each soaked in blood. You do the math."

"So what, my assignment is to play hero and rescue Ada?" Leon chuckled.

"And that Ashley… every country wants a piece of her, it seems."

"Ashley…?" Leon screwed up his face.

"Ashley and Ada are your two objectives. You need to bring them home safely. After this I am considering suggesting to the president that Ashley be put under lock and key so that this kidnapping nonsense can stop."

"But… why would they want Ashley?"

"Maybe your little Spanish friends had other friends whom you missed? I'm not certain; the motives are not clear. But I know we need to get them back here before the president has an aneurism and before I lose my job!"

"Fine. Just tell me when I--"

"You leave first thing tomorrow. We will supply you with your arsenal; it will be set up the same was it was when you had your first search and rescue mission. Only, this time we will prevent the line from being jacked and we will provide you with some money, the Slovak koruna. Sadly, there is no time for you to brush up on your Slovak."

"Just like last time. You always spring these missions on me at the last minute." Leon scoffed.

"It is just bad timing. Though you would think someone in your position would know more than just English."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Leon muttered.

"Are we done here?"

"Yes. Report here first thing tomorrow. You will be flown to Amsterdam, then take a bullet train to Bratislava. Take note, you will not be assigned escorts."

"I wasn't last time." Leon said bitterly at the thought of the two Spanish police officers who drove off and left him there. He remembered one particularly smart-ass comment one of them made: _What, forget your makeup? Humph._

Leon gritted his teeth.

"Why Amsterdam?"

"To make you seem less conspicuous. Now… you will be provided a standard pistol and ammunition, a two way radio, currency, and a translation guide."

Leon grimaced,

"Why don't you just give me a fanny pack and a big red sign that says "tourist"?"

"Ha ha. No, the guide is to help you around the country. Slovakia isn't like Spain. And you may have to interact with someone. I doubt you'll be as lucky to find someone who speaks fluent English as last time."

"Whatever." Leon stared off.

"Good then. You are dismissed. Be in my office at 4.30AM sharp."

Leon nodded, rose from his chair, and left the office.

He found it difficult to focus on anything other then why they would kidnap Ashley. Whatever it was, he didn't have a good feeling about it. About any of the situation.

"What'd jack-off want?" Gram said sullenly.

"To discuss a matter with me." Leon retorted.

"You goin' by yourself?"

"They chose the most competent person for the job. And seeing as I'm the only one qualified…"

Gram scowled and turned back to his stack of papers. He was competent, he could do what Leon could do, but probably better. A slight growl rose from Gram's throat. Leon ignored it. He had more important things to worry about, like sorting out this ring's motives.

Izzy: Please R+R. It makes chapters come faster. )


	2. Chapter 2

Izzy: Thank you very much for the reviews. I hope you all like this chapter. (:

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2**

"_Ohh_… why so… _early_?" Leon yawned and rubbed a sleepy out of his eye as he stretched overly dramatic. The Wesker-incarnate raised an eyebrow.

"If you're quite finished--"

"I mean, Slovakia's gunna be there. It's not going anywhere; I don't see why I have to go there so early…" Leon acted as though his superior had said nothing and gave another yawn.

"You seem to forget time zone differences. It will be close to evening time when you finally land in Amsterdam, then you will have to allow about an hour for the bullet train… but knowing you, you'll find a way to delay yourself, or cause widespread mayhem and destruction." His superior added dryly.

"Didn't even get to finish my Mcmuffin…" Leon said pitifully and patted his stomach. His superior raised an eyebrow.

"If you're quite through…? …right. You know your objectives--"

"Navigate Bratislava, locate and dismantle the terrorist ring, then locate Ada and Ashley and get 'em home safe. I've heard it before."

"Don't be so sure. Slovakia is not Spain."

"Your point?"

"Just don't sound so cocky. You're already going to be an outside there; the last thing you want to do is draw further attention to yourself by having an over-inflated ego."

"Ego deflated." Leon shrugged.

"Everything you need is in the chopper--"

"I get a chopper this time? Thank God I don't have to fly coach this time."

His superior chuckled humourlessly,

"It seems to me you are trying to delay your deportation."

"Not really. Though I could say the same for you."

"Down the hall, east corridor, then make a right. There you'll find the launch pad and your good buddy Mike."

"Mike?"

"Yes. Mike. Apparently he's like a cockroach; nothing short of a nuclear explosion will kill him. Apparently a helicopter crash doesn't fall under that category."

Wesker-incarnate glanced at the clock.

"Better get a move on."

"Erm… right."

o0o0o0o

Gram sat at his desk, as usual, because he didn't get to go on anything special. He glanced up, broodingly, at Leon as he wandered by the office on his way to the launch pad. Gram turned his hateful gaze back down to the polished table. In short, Gram was something like Jack Krauser in attitude and build. He wasn't nearly as buff, but his other physical attributes were close to Krauser's; He was just as quick to be jealous and had some very cunning, and ruthless, tactics. Most his plans involved a bio-warfare of sorts, and those plans were always best to steer clear of.

Even if they were the most effective, they could just as easily backfire.

And the whole T-virus incident didn't help matter at all, not to mention the Plagas.

o0o0o0o

"Hey, Leon. You ready to get this show on the road?"

"Not really. I vote we ditch and get those drinks."

"Copy that. Fly us to a real good bar; Germany has some of the best." Mike grinned.

Leon mirrored him then sighed as he clambered up into the copter. He found all his gear there; standard pistol with laser target and a few boxes of extra bullets, a two way transmitter equipped with a map of his location and the rough location of where his objective is (the terrorist ring), and the translation guide.

"Hey, where's my money?" Leon asked as he made sure his pistol was loaded.

"Hrm? Oh, that. Didn't you get it from Briggs?"

"He never mentioned anything about it." Leon growled. Briggs, his superior and Wesker-incarnate, had apparently failed to mention one very important thing- money.

Mike looked at his watch.

"Hurry up; we're due to leave in a few minutes."

"No, forget it. He's the last person I want to see. I have some money, I'll just get it converted at the layover station." Leon shrugged and held up a wad of bills. Mike nodded.

"That'll get you a fair bit; probably more than cheap-ass was gunna give ya. After you finish, you should demand reimbursement and a little extra on the side, since he forgot to give you yer cash." Mike chuckled and flicked a few switches to let the chopper warm up. He handed Leon a pair of noise-isolating headphones.

"It gets real loud in here."

Leon nodded and accepted the headphones.

"Take this, too. It seemed to help you out a bit when you went to Spain." Mike added and held out a folded vest with a knife laid on top.

Leon, again, nodded in thanks and slipped the vest on. It was a bit snug from the gained weight, but it still fit. He slipped the knife into the appropriate sheath close to his right shoulder and fastened the leather strap over the handle, so to keep it in place.

"Now you look like you're ready to kick some ass."

"Mike… how'd--"

"Hold that thought buddy; we've been cleared for take-off." Mike interrupted and flicked a few more switches, then mumbled some technical garb into his headset. Leon leaned back in his seat while the helicopter readied itself for take-off. He always hated flying; Acrophobic, you see. In addition, the turbulence made him a bit nauseous.

o0o0o0o

It was after they were thirty minutes into their flight that Mike spoke.

"Now what were you sayin'?"

Leon hesitated. He had actually forgotten about his interrupted sentence. Mike took the silence as anger.

"Now don't get pissy; we were cued to take off, and I didn't feel like getting chewed out by Briggs again, plus--"

"I was trying to remember what I was going to say."

"Oh."

There was silence again.

"Well?" Mike said after another moment. Now Leon was trying to figure out how to approach the subject.

He decided on the direct approach.

"How are you still here?"

"I have to be here; chopper ain't gunna fly itself."

"Alive."

"Like I said, it ain't gunna fly itself."

"Your chopper exploded."

"Yup. Good thing I know how to abandon ship and swim, eh?" Mike chuckled.

"Oh, sure. I got pretty cut up and I almost froze in that water. Damn cold. And my chopper was hosed. I managed to find an island about six miles off shore…"

"And?"

"I passed out. I have no idea how long I was out, but when I came to it was morning. Lady Luck must have her eye on me, because I was able to get through to headquarters on my radio. I sat there for a few days."

"Doesn't sound too bad.'

"In the process of waiting I got attacked by wolves, contracted rabies, realized I had a four inch piece of metal logged in my right leg, and I ran out of smokes. That last one was the worst of them all."

"I'll be sure not to piss you off." Leon was referring to the rabies.

"Yeah; I might start to foam at the mouth. Nah, they got there on the double and gave me the shots right there. Horrible."

Mike shook his head.

"And to beat it all as we were loading up the evac chopper a flock of wolves came runnin' at us. Now I was doped up on rabies drugs and morphine… but… there was something wrong with those dogs; they had these… things- like tentacles comin' outta their back and it was just freaky. We got the hell outta dodge."

"Those dogs were infected with the parasites." Leon said bitterly.

"Huh. Ugly fuckers." Mike said simply.

There was silence once again. Leon was feeling a small panic settle in his stomach. If the spores of the Plagas had made it six miles away from the island… then how far _had _the spores spread? For all he knew they could be in the States by now…

"The Plagas make people really aggressive and act out of character. Then, without warning, this big parasite comes shooting out of their neck. Oh God, it's disgusting. You get all this… I don't know what it is, it's like a goop. Think of bile mixed with blood and pus and you have that goop."

"That just nasty." Mike groaned in disgust.

"Tell me about it."

"Maybe Briggs is infected… oh, wait, he's just a prick." Mike laughed, and Leon joined him. The lightness of the atmosphere made the heaviness in his stomach dissipate.

o0o0o0o

A few more hours had passed, as had stories of two years ago and even longer before that. Bashing Briggs was also included in every conversation. And apparently the reason Leon hadn't seen Mike anywhere was because they worked on opposite ends of the building and each assumed the other dead.

"Why didn't Briggs tell me you were alive, I wonder. He knew we were good friends." Leon mumbled.

"When will it sink in? Briggs is an asshole, a prick. He thrives on misery."

"Harsh."

"The truth's harsh."

The mood became increasingly heavier as they neared Amsterdam.

"Mike, why is it we couldn't just land in Bratislava?"

"One, they have no chopper clearance, two, we need to be inconspicuous. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Keep that guide with you at all times, and don't make yourself to be the enemy. This ring practically owns the country… they're something like the supreme mafia."

"Ah. Too bad it's not the day of the Don's daughter's wedding. I could just ask for Ashley and Ada back."

"Ha ha. Even then, you could only have one. He'll grant you _one _favour."

"So I'd be screwed either way."

"Leon, if you get in trouble, press that button on your radio. It'll send out a signal to this chopper, and I'll haul ass there to blow what ever's giving you so much grief to hell. Because I'll be station in Amsterdam, I'll be close by, so I'll get there pretty quick."

"Thanks." Leon smiled slightly and looked down at his radio.

"The green one?"

"No. Red one. Green one… well, you don't wanna press that. It's self-destruct."

Leon raised an eyebrow.

Mike raised a hand in defensive.

"I know; it's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. But, apparently if you get in a tight spot you can detonate your radio and it works like a grenade. The explosion sends out a signal to headquarters telling them to send an evac chopper.'

"But how the hell will the chopper find me?"

"Supposedly the chopper locks onto the signal and doesn't lose it."

"So I should try it?"

"I wouldn't."

"If I get in a tight spot?'

"Then you press the red button, idiot." Mike chuckled.

"Just don't get yourself shot down this time." Leon mused.

"I'll try my best. I'll be sure to bring some Ale with me, just incase I have to sit on an island in excruciating pain again. This time, I'll be prepared."

o0o0o0o

Silence had stuck around for a while, but it was interrupted by the static of Mike's radio and a man speaking over it in German. Mike retorted what the man had said with his own German. Leon turned his head towards the window. He could see the clouds below him being passed through by the copter as they neared the ground.

Mike said something in German into the headpiece, followed by "Roger".

"Okay, Leon. After I drop you off here, you have an hour before your train leaves. I suggest you get something to eat and some coffee. Don't drink the water, though."

"I already learned that in Spain." Leon's head was instantly filled with the image of the manure and maggot filled wells and how badly the water had smelled.

"What'd you drink over there, anyway?'

"I had a small purification machine."

"I see. I would just splurge here and get a coffee and bottled water."

"Roger that."

Mike smirked, and then said something in German into the radio. The man responded and Mike flipped a few switches.

"We're goin' down, Leon. Once we land, your mission starts, so does your time limit.'

"I'm being timed?"

"_Dammit, Briggs._ He didn't tell you that you have a six day window?"

"You expect him to tell me that? Oh well… same amount of time I had on my last mission."

"It should be a cakewalk, Leon. And remember, press the red button if you need me."

"Will do." Leon retorted and felt his stomach tighten further as he saw Amsterdam's airport and landing pad come into sight.

**End chapter 2**


End file.
